


Unbreached Void

by kay_el



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Tattoos, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_el/pseuds/kay_el
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton Geiszler runs a radio show in the little town of Night Vale. There’s also a ~dreamy mathematician~ named Hermann.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbreached Void

**Author's Note:**

> So, I think I can safely blame this on tumblr user teroknortailor. Also Newt is a little bit more like Cecil than I wanted him to be, and basically all their characterization is off, but I wrote this at midnight, so forgive me.  
> Originally posted at my tumblr and LJ (kayisatoaster).

Newt lounges in his roll-around chair as the intro music queues up. He takes a breath, _he’s a rock star, he loves this job, he’s going to be awesome_ , and leans forwards, one hand resting against the shell of his headphones, to speak into the microphone.

 

“The sand outnumbers you. The void consumes you soon after you lose consciousness. You are nothing compared to the devastation of nature. Welcome to Night Vale.”

 

It’s a pretty normal show today. Newt admits he’s a little distracted as he reads out the usual warnings, presents a notice about the Librarians that may or may not have gotten loose, despite the fact that the library currently has no door, and gives an update on the angels that have started to clean out Josie’s garage.

It’s a unique day, however, because Hermann the mathematician – beautiful Hermann, slender and brilliant and perfect – walks into the station during his show.

And, of course, Newt knows that it would be completely unprofessional to interrupt his broadcast to talk to the man, no matter how intriguing he may or may not be. But, surely, once the weather comes on…

 

“The Sheriff’s Secret Police thanks you for your cooperation, and urges you to report any of these invasive enormous robots, probably sent by the meddlesome World Government, by shrieking a high C into the closest garbage disposal.

“And now, the weather.”

 

He leaves the recording booth and smiles at Hermann, who looks… unnaturally peeved. Newt wants to frown in response, because such an expression should not mar such a well-shaped face. He grins instead.

“Hermann! How can I help you, this fine summer’s day?”

Hermann is still frowning. “Your town is mathematically impossible, Newton.”

Newt hums in interest and starts the coffee machine. He thinks the interns are at a reeducation seminar put on by HR, which is why he has to make the coffee himself. He thinks about it, decides very emphatically to _not_ think about it, and starts to roll up his sleeves instead. “Oh?”

“Yes. I don’t understand it. I’ve done the figures countless times, and considering the level of seismic activity in the area, not to mention the number of times that some sort of monster or biologically impossible occurrence takes place…”

Hermann pauses, staring intently at Newt’s tattoos.

“Did your tattoo just move?”

It had, in fact, just moved. Newt’s tattoos all moved – he hadn’t thought it worth the extra money to make them stationary, and really, he doesn’t mind. Occasionally the monsters emblazoned on his arms get a little bored, or a little angry, but the bites are almost gentle most days. He’s come to grow fond of most of them – except that one that keeps reminding him of… He shakes his head. Thinking about that Steve Carlsburg was going to lead to nothing but more neon-blue acid burning a hole through his door again, and a definite headache.

He held his arm out for Hermann to see, grinning proudly as Onibaba slid around the back of his arm to peer at Hermann.

“You like ‘em? I think this girl likes you,” and he runs a finger down the ink of her ridged back.

Hermann looks a little pale. He opens and closes his mouth for a second, before whispering, “have you ever seen one of those, um, creatures, in Night Vale?”

Newt pursed his lips. _Hello_ , acid.

“If you’re talking about Steve Carlsburg,” Newt raises his hands, shaking his head emphatically, “believe me, you don’t even want to go there. God, I hate that guy.”

Hermann swallowed. “Beg pardon?”

“He’s such a jerk, honestly, and you should taste what he brings to PTA meetings. He’s a disgrace to this beautiful town, really he is. I wouldn’t blame you if you kept your distance from that guy.”

“He’s also…” Hermann glances around the station, searching for the right words, and Newt pours himself a cup of coffee in the conversation’s lull, “enormous and scaly and kind of looks like Godzilla?”

“Who’s Godzilla?” Newt tilts his head curiously at Hermann, who doesn’t reply.

Newt shrugs and continues his original train of thought.

“Now, if you’re talking about John Peters, you know, the farmer, he really is a good guy. I mean, _yeah,_ sometimes he tramples his own crops, and, very occasionally, a number of the Night Vale population, but you’ve got to expect that sort of thing during Spring Break, don’t you think? I mean, I think if more people talked to him, they’d really like him. Plus, he gives us some excellent news stories.”

Hermann doesn’t say anything, looks a little bit distraught to be honest, but the weather is almost over, and Newt needs to get back into the booth.

He claps Hermann on the shoulder and grins.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, dude. You’re like a rock star here, and I want you to feel welcome.”

Hermann swallows and nods, offers Newt a tight smile that Newt happily accepts. He beams back and squeezes Hermann’s shoulder.

“Good seeing you. I’ve got to finish the show.”

 

Hermann leaves, pulling the door open with his cane like he’s afraid to touch the luminescent paint (which is just silly, the radiation only leaves the most unobtrusive second-degree burns on your hands, and an intern hasn’t died from ingesting it in, like, four whole days) and Newt pulls his headphones back over his ears as the music dies down into a final crescendo.

“Dear listeners, you would not believe who came to visit me during the weather today. _Hermann_! I know, right?! He was explaining something to me about Night Vale not existing, well, mathematically, but we really got to talking. I’m afraid I may have dominated the conversation, ugh, I hate my big mouth sometimes. But I think he might be, you know. Liking me! Maybe! Oh, what a beautiful day.

“Which reminds me, Otachi, you know, the Kaiju in the men’s bathroom, made the most adorable little noise the other day. He’s really changed my mind about Kaijus. For years I’ve been a dog person, but when that little guy starts yowling, gosh, it makes me smile.

“One last announcement from City Council – Mayor Pentecost wants me to remind you that the noises coming from the dog park are still, and have always been, PLASTIC. BAGS.

“The ocean is dark, and deep, and may not actually have an end. Who knows. Perhaps there’s another void, drifting just below the waves.

“Good night, Night Vale. Good night.”


End file.
